


The Red Knight - Moment in Time

by the_black_rose



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Church of Lemons 2021, F/M, Gundam Wing Fanart, Heero POV, The Original Church of Lemons, Very minor reference to imagined bondage, knights and queens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_black_rose/pseuds/the_black_rose
Summary: Dear Noventa,It should perhaps come as no surprise that I have met with failure. The original endeavor was noble and just in its undertaking - to observe and advise on human rights and the rules of warfare as agreed to by the collaborative War Tribunal that bears your honorable name.The man known only as the Red Knight, as you know, has a terrible reputation and often engages in "total war" against the citizens of a place. However, his employers declared to us their intentions to adhere to the War Tribunal’s more humane principles even as they sent him in pursuit of war against the Sanq Kingdom. Yes, though the endeavor was sound, and the choice in advisor from the Tribunal was equally sensible - I find myself, instead, a prisoner.I am not ill-treated. On occasion, the Knight still finds amusement in humoring me with an audience. He seems to make a sport of ignoring all of my advice. Even worse, he declared the young Peacecraft Queen his hostage!
Relationships: Relena Peacecraft & Heero Yuy, Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy
Comments: 21
Kudos: 79
Collections: Church of Lemons 2021





	The Red Knight - Moment in Time

**Author's Note:**

> I tried and tried and tried to get enough of this story written - to get to the scene I wanted to share for CoL. But, as we moved into early February, I realized I would have to sacrifice something. 
> 
> I chose to shortcut the bulk of the story I've written with a long letter; this is not how the fic will go when I start posting it as a chaptered fic (someday), but gets us, today, to the part I want to share.
> 
>  **I commissioned an artist** (as in I requested a specific piece of artwork and paid for the rights to it; the artist knows I post it with my story, and _mark it_ as being connected / commissioned for the fic) to draw the scene as well. 
> 
> Hopefully, this ends up a little better than the other alternative: out of context Heero and Relena smexing….
> 
> Love,  
> ~Rose

* * *

_The Right Honorable Lord Noventa  
_ _Noventa War Tribunal  
_ _Lunove Svitland_

_Dear Noventa,_

_It should perhaps come as no surprise that I have met with failure. The original endeavor was noble and just in its undertaking - to observe and advise on human rights and the rules of warfare as agreed to by the collaborative War Tribunal that bears your honorable name._

_The man known only as the Red Knight, as you know, has a terrible reputation and often engages in "total war" against the citizens of a place. However, his employers declared to us their intentions to adhere to the War Tribunal's more humane principles even as they sent him in pursuit of war against the Sanq Kingdom. Yes, though the endeavor was sound, and the choice in advisor from the Tribunal was equally sensible - I find myself, instead, a prisoner._

_I am not ill-treated. On occasion, the Knight still finds amusement in humoring me with an audience. He seems to make a sport of ignoring all of my advice. Even worse, he declared the young Peacecraft Queen his hostage!_

_It seems as though we were greatly deceived by Lord Krushrenada as to the purpose of hiring the Red Knight. He did not merely wish the reinstatement of the lands General Zala captured some years ago. I have heard whispers that he wishes the entire Sanq Kingdom razed or annexed._

_The captive Queen is without a handmaiden or appropriate guardian. Barely eighteen years of age, she is attended only by a lowly messenger boy who, though poor-looking, seems to have an affinity for knives. He and her servant, a large man named Rashid, are both currently under my protection - as I promised to pay the mercenary in exchange for their lives._

_We are a small traveling troupe, with a band of soldiers leading the way, and a couple of women riding with me and Rashid - to do the cooking and the washing. I do not know why it is that we must bring the Queen to the Kingdom of Krivoy Rah, except the Red Knight claims that was the arrangement. I gleaned, when he said as much, that it perplexes him as well._

_The young Queen, I heard much of, but never met until she came into our encampment. Known for her altruism as the last member of the Peacecraft monarchy, she had turned away several suitors - before and after her parents' deaths. And even the unfortunate loss of her brother at sea._

_Her Uncle Weyridge, a friend of yours, if I recall - a Marquise, is it? He established a regency for her. The regency ended only a few weeks ago, a mere fortnight in advance of her birthday._

_Though I have spoken only a few words to her, I believe that had Lord Krushrenada merely asked her to return the lands he seeks to rule, she would have._

_The Lady Relena, as she asked to be called, is spirited, to be sure. She and her captor have a volatile relationship. On the one hand, I never saw him more enraged than when she slapped him across the face - upon his announcement she was his hostage. On the other, as we have marched on towards Krivoy Rah and the lady's unknown fate, I have seen him look at her with a softness I did not think him capable._

_For a time, she even wore the beads of 'mistress' of his house. Oh, I forget myself. These people have a strange custom. Somewhat tribal, though I cannot place the origin. Norse, perhaps? The men, once of age, have beads sewn into a thin braid over one shoulder. I do not know much more than that, except the beads are all different. Some have interesting pieces or ornately crafted carvings. I find them fascinating! But, I have not had much chance to study their meanings._

_One man had an interesting bronze band clutched around two braids. When I asked him, he said it represented his family. The band was like a wedding band, and the second strand represented his son's line, as he was fortunate enough to be grandfather. I wish I could ask each one about their beads and learn about their lives. And I would like very much to know of the Red Knight's: red, blue and silver. They are distinct. The silver is tarnished which means it is real._

_Forgive me, I have digressed. I did receive your letter and am most grateful for your help in arranging my affairs while I have been away. I am pleased that Abdul will be able to accompany Monsieur Le Fouquet - and meet us in the Southern Country, before we cross into Krivoy Rah. I thank you for sending Ahmad with the monies to settle the Queen's debts amongst her household._

_To answer your question, however, I see no evidence that the Red Knight is the lost Duke, Lord Alpha of Avondale. The knight seems to be well-steeped in his country's duties and customs - as if he were raised with them all his life. I have, however, noticed something peculiar about him._

_I have witnessed, as we have traveled, a most strange evolution. At first, it alarmed me, but then Rashid pointed out that, well, it is a most delicate matter….It is not my place to gossip, but it has been remarked upon by the woman, Sally, as well._

_The closer we get to Krivoy Rah, the more I hear rumblings at night amongst our traveling party. The men seem uneasy, and the women have grown fond of the deposed Queen. She rides like a man during the day - I leant her a pair of my breeches. And she helps the women in the evenings. I hear them sharing stories, sometimes._

_It seems that Sally is betrothed to the captain of the Knight's purchased army - a foreign noble named Wufei. She has been his mistress for a time, but he promised to marry her once this campaign ended. I think she is a kind woman, but I wonder the influence she has over the young Queen._

_I heard her one night - quite accidentally, I assure you. Lest you think it is my habit of eavesdropping on women. I heard Sally explain to the maiden Queen what happens in the marriage bed!_

_I cannot imagine her impetus for doing such a thing. Except it has occurred to me, in writing this, the Lady Relena does not have a mother to impart such advice. I just remember the Queen's declaration that, well, the only thing I shall repeat is that she thought the experience sounded 'magical'._

_I suppose it can be, although my dearest Dorothy manages to make it more rigorous!_

… _.._

_Oh. Another night has passed, and I just read over my letter. Apologies, that last part was most indecent of me. I do not know what possessed me to write such a thing. You have known me long, since our days with our governess. I hope you can forgive my candor. I am running low on ink and do not wish to rewrite this correspondence._

_I was saying that I have witnessed an evolution in the Red Knight since we began our journey. At first, he and the Lady Relena made fine weapons out of words. Then, she was noticed to be wearing his beads - as if she were his mistress, or, under the protection of his 'house'. Since she did not know what went on in the marriage bed, I assume it was the latter._

_The beads were removed after we began the journey. Once on the road, the days became long; we press forward like we are being chased by ghosts. I hope Monsieur Le Fouquet and Abdul did not tarry before setting off. Abdul and Ahmad are well familiar with leaving at a moment's notice - it is the life of a member of the Maganacs elite corps, no doubt._

_Oh, but my mind wanders. I fear it is the time of day I write, before the sun has risen in the morning, or long after dark. I write by candlelight. Exhausted. Fortunately, that is not the subject of my narrative - which has grown long. I wonder when I shall have the chance to courier it to you. It is not like when we were encamped at the Sanq Kingdom's borders, when I had messengers available to me._

_The Red Knight, throughout my short acquaintance with him, is a proud man. Rough. Pointed of word and, at times, mocking. I have not witnessed such behavior since we left on this journey of ours. Instead, he seemed pleased when the Queen chose to ride her own horse. And concerned when she fell during the most wretched rainstorm yesterday eve._

_Oh, I did not relate this event. Her horse lost its footing. The Queen fell and sprained her foot, but nothing worse. We are all covered in mud after the day's progress. And most unfit to be seen. The weather, which had been unseasonably warm, turned spiteful and cold. I can only hope that when we reach the river that marks the halfway point of our journey, we should be allowed to bathe._

_The sun lights the horizon. The soldiers begin to rise. It is not long before we must set out on another day's journey._

… _..._

_I just read my letter, again, and I am a poor correspondent. I am also about to run out of ink. The point I wanted to make is this:_

_I am hopeful for the first time since the moment we were told that Lord Krushrenada wished to war against the Sanq kingdom. While I spent much of the last few days fearful on behalf of the young and spirited Queen, I have seen an interesting and distinct change in the Red Knight._

_Women are always better at hiding their affections than men - it is their way of increasing a man's love: by suspense, I believe, is how my sister Iria explains it._

_But, to my eye, I have witnessed enough to believe the once rumored heartless and merciless Knight admires the Peacecraft heir. If there could be anything or anyone who could save her - from the uncertain fate Lord Khrushrenada has in mind. For such a violent man, if he is as violently in love as he seems._

_I should think there would be nothing on this Earth which could harm her._

_Pray that I may be right._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Quatre Raberba Winner_

* * *

Morning tiptoed, uninvited, into the Red Knight's tent and woke him from slumber. The dark air wrapped itself with a chilled fog and kicked him in the gut.

'We need to make up ground today.' Heero groaned and sat up. He cast a glance at his hostage - huddled along her side of his tent. She shivered in her thin gown; golden hair tossed around her shoulders and covering part of her face. The Knight traced her small form with his eyes: the sharp slope from her ribcage to her abdomen; the curve of her hip.

A shudder ran through her spine. Heero deposited his blanket on top of the sleeping Queen. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. The Knight clenched his eyes shut; his head throbbed behind his eyes.

_"You are a terrible enemy," he sneered at the young Queen. Lord Krushrenada told him she would be a dangerous enemy. Heero selected his army, brought an additional brigade, more dragoons - only to have her offer a 'conditional' surrender before he took the capitol. The cost of those men's service was money he had wasted._

_The Red Knight blinked; she moved closer to him, full lips parted. The beads, his beads, dripping from the threads of her hair. She would be seen as. She could be…. His._

_"Perhaps you'd please me more as a mistress." He leaned forward. Fixated on those tempting lips. His body already imagining what pleasures she could provide…._

_Demure, blue-green eyes lowered, she leaned in. The air warmed and his mouth dried. Would she try seducing him to gain her freedom?_

_He could just taste her…._

_A sharp pain! His head jerked. She grabbed his strand of beads and pulled. Heero growled._

_"I shall be no one's mistress." She seethed at him through clenched teeth. Her eyes narrowed. "The man who lays with me will understand that my heart, which I give freely, is his most sacred possession."_

_A wave of heat broke through his spine, and his groin tightened._

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she clutched the blanket against her. The Queen settled on her back - exposing the pale skin of her décolletage. Her breasts rose and fell with her breath.

'I cannot let myself dwell on it. I need to keep moving.' The chill in the air didn't do much to alleviate his arousal.

'Anyone would find the Lady, the Queen-' He shook the thought from his head. 'It is nothing.'

_The Lady's horse lost its footing in the mud. Alarm rose like bile in the back of his throat. The Red Knight could only watch as the animal's left legs bowed at a strange angle. It whinnied. The back right leg folded, and the horse collapsed on its side._

_Heero shouted. The Queen fell. He yanked hard on his reins. His mount bucked as it halted. He leapt down. Rain pelting his skin. He ran, covering the distance in a few steps. The Lady Relena lay, unmoving, swaddled in cloak and mud._

_He dropped to his knees, pulling her to him. Heero patted her shoulder. Her cheek. No response. Rain drops wet his eyes. A thousand icy needles pricked his skin._

_"Speak to me!"_

Heero forced his eyes from her sleeping form, climbed to his feet and ducked through the flap to greet the dawn.

* * *

April air slapped his face, but couldn't clear the haze. The land smelled clean after the rain. The smell of wet grass and pine needles mixed with dampened wood and mud permeated the air.

Light broke over the horizon, as if the sun cracked a single eyelid trying to take the measure of the day ahead. Heero ran a hand through his hair. He grimaced at the bits of dirt sifting through his fingers.

"How is the Lady Relena?" Quatre, his 'advisor' from the Noventa War Tribunal - the Lord Winner's voice sounded behind him. Heero groaned. This man tested his patience like no other.

"She suffers well."

_Heero reached for her leg; she shifted it under her skirt. "Give me your foot."_

_The mud-covered Queen glared at him. "I hope that when you grow old, you will be haunted by the ghosts of those who were your victims." She drew her legs up against her chest and hugged them - as if she was trying to make herself into a tight ball of anger._

_"As a glimpse of what awaits you in death! Red Knight." She spit the words at him._

_He slammed his fist into the soft ground. Bits of mud splattered his tunic. "Do not call me." He clamped his mouth shut._

_"Call you what?"_

_"Red Knight. Nor 'mercenary'." He couldn't stop from shouting. "Do not call me thus."_

" _What should I call you, then?"_

_"Heero Yuy."_

_She unfolded herself. "Heero Yuy. A strong name." She tilted her head. "It means, 'the one and only', does it not? It cannot be your given name. Why trade one pseudonym for another?"_

"Perhaps we could lighten the day's journey? We are all exhausted."

The nasally whine of his 'advisor' interrupted his memory. He should have charged Khrushrenada an extra fee for putting up with the sniveling pain in the-

"We lost a horse. The Lady is injured."

Heero turned to glare at the noble. The muck from the day before darkened Quatre's blond hair and smeared across his cheek.

"We have ground to make up." The Knight steeled himself against the icy breeze.

'I have to keep moving.' He started towards the center of camp - intent on stirring the embers to renew the fire.

"But, we have supplies enough." The irritating, delicate man chased after him. He always followed. With his rules and recommendations! His constant 'concern' for people. Especially the deposed Queen and her captured servants.

The Red Knight stomped faster through the small, wooded area.

Heero had caught the young nobleman speaking to the Lady, their heads bowed together as if they shared each other's confidence. If not for the Lord Winner's purse, the Knight would have torn him limb from limb.

And delighted in it.

"We could hunt or fish today to replenish." Quatre's voice sounded winded as he continued to pursue.

The Lady's servant, a tall young man with a mop of hair that hid half his face - moved in the opposite direction on the small footpath. Heero didn't see him in the early light of dawn until the man was almost upon them. He shoved Trowa out of his way.

"Ooof." The servant stumbled backwards. The Knight trudged on.

Heero picked up the branch set aside to stir the fire. He raked it over the ash; orange light devoured pieces of wood, bit by bit. He threw a couple of logs on top. Flames rose and licked the new sustenance with hunger.

"There is no need to push your men and us."

Heat swirled into the air. It warmed his skin and his humor. "I know my men. They are soldiers."

"Did you know that two of them left this morning?" Trowa's quiet voice sounded equally as irritating as the noble's.

Heero tensed. His stomach lurched. "They did no such—"

"Took two horses and some rations and set out in the opposite direction - as if going back by the same road. I heard them grousing in the dark."

The Knight cursed under his breath. "They defected."

"They had no stomach for a woman hostage. Nor the punishment of this journey."

He seethed through clenched teeth.

"Let us make camp at the river." Quatre spoke again. His cheerful tone and formal language….

"We can bathe and fish and rest. The difference of a day in handing over—"

Heero turned away from the fire. He needed to get their traveling company moving. The faster he rid himself of this woman. The sooner he got paid. "Your motives are suspect." He moved swiftly past the others, heading back towards the tents.

A flapping sound came from the women's shelter to his right. Sally had risen and emerged. Catherine would be behind her. They would start breakfast for the men. He nodded at her.

"I have no motives. I just want us all to have a rest." Quatre continued to pace behind him.

"You race as if our lives depend on reaching Krivoy within four days. You press on like we are being chased by something. There is no one after us. And if it takes five days or six, I do not see why it should matter."

Heero turned and glared at the two men - hostages. Who thought, for some reason, their voices mattered. "Prepare your horse. We have ground to make up."

"Quatre, he is heartless. Your appeal—"

"He is not heartless!" The nobleman's impassioned cry caused Heero's feet to stick to the ground. He turned.

"I have seen with my own eyes." Lord Winner pointed at him. His hand almost connected with the Knight's chest.

"He is afraid. That is why he runs."

Ice formed along his spine. "Afraid?" Heero roared. "What have I to fear?"

"You know what you fear, I shall not shame you for something that is noble - except that you should run from it." He lowered his eyes.

"You know nothing. You are hostage, and I should flog you for your insolence."

"You wouldn't, though." He raised his chin and puffed out his chest. "Not now." Light-colored eyes flashed like steel. "Not when you would lose so much."

"I don't know what you're speaking of." He pivoted to resume his slog through the mud and muck - back to his tent. "I have no time—"

"You are chased by ghosts." Quatre moved to block his path. "You are at once afraid of admitting that which you fear as much as you are afraid of never knowing." His hand gripped Heero's shoulder.

"You are not heartless, but you may be coward."

A cold haze swept over his vision. The Red Knight growled. He removed the man's hand from his shoulder and thrust him backwards. Lord Winner turned and struck out. His fist connected with Heero's jaw. The Knight's head jerked. He recovered and slammed it forward. A loud crack! His skull connected with the noble's and sent him staggering back.

Heero stomped forward, grabbing Quatre by his tunic.

"That's enough." A feminine voice. Her voice held a firm, commanding timbre. Heero froze and looked up. Her pale green robe fluttered in the breeze. Gold hair fell in a loose braid over her shoulder. Proud chin, rigid posture. Wherever she went, she would always be a queen.

Quatre and Trowa stepped back and turned their attention to her highness. The two men gave an appropriate bow in greeting. Blue-green eyes sparked and smoldered when she met his gaze. He pulled himself to his full height and breadth.

But he did not, would not bow.

"It is far too early for this. And you need the Lord Winner's payment, do you not, mercenary?" Her voice sounded as cold as the air around him.

God damned woman. She was mocking him. Calling him 'mercenary', again. "I told you not to call me that."

"And should I fear your mistreatment of hostages if I do not follow your orders? With such low tactics as cracking one's skull against another?" She continued her approach. Heero's blood pounded in his ears.

"My head is not as hard as Lord Winner's appears to be. I should think one blow would finish me. Do you not believe it so, Trowa?"

"It's as you say, My Lady."

"And surely you would not kill all your hostages in one day. Would you, the one and only Red Knight?"

"I told you not to."

"Perhaps a pet name, then?" She raised her head and cast a disdainful look down her nose.

"Your mocking does not serve you."

"Your pretense at malice does not serve you. You think it makes you fearsome. But what is the cost, Heero? Who stays with you that loves you?"

He locked eyes with her. She stared back, unflinching. The delicate features of a young noblewoman, she had proven herself an excellent rider, and even that she held a small skill with the sword.

He grunted as he looked away. "You ride with me, today." The Red Knight tried to resume his trek.

"No." Trowa's voice spoke. "She should ride—"

"What kind of imbecile do you take me for? You," he pointed at the Lady's servant with the odd mop of hair and cruel smile, "are not to be trusted. You would ride off with the woman in an instant if you thought there was a tree or a hole you could secret her in."

Green eyes met his and tried to murder him with a look.

"I shall ride with you," the Queen said.

"We leave within the quarter hour." He moved towards her, to pass by on his way to tend to his mount. She grabbed his sleeve before he could walk away. Heero froze and glanced down at her.

"I do not fear you." Her voice sounded breathless. Her eyes lifted beneath a fringe of lashes - and imprisoned him in her gaze.

The way she said it, while staring into him. As if she knew, could see all the way through him. It made his blood turn to fire. He held her look for just a moment. Then pulled from her grasp and walked away.

'But you do not love me.'

* * *

Having her ride double with him was a terrible idea. And yet, there was no way he would have let her ride with anyone else. The Lady's arms around his waist became like another part of him.

Her warmth trapped the heat of riding - against his skin. Her breath on the back of his neck tightened portions of his body he shouldn't think about.

And he definitely should not think about….  
  


_"You are my hostage."_

_"You have no need to bind my arms." Her soft voice puffed against his ear._

_He held her arms over her head, pinning them against the ground as he used his body to press her beneath him._

_He dipped his head to sample her—  
  
_

"Yah!" A rider came up hard on his right. Heero tugged the reins and slowed his horse to a walk.

Trowa hailed him. Sally rode behind the servant, clinging to him. Heero sighed and came to a stop. Women. The whole group could only travel as fast as the women.

"Ho there."

"What is it?"

"The river is just up ahead. A half mile."

"And?"

"It is a good stopping point. Our party could use the opportunity to bathe, resupply our water, and fish."

Heero glared at Sally. She pressed her lips into a thin line, but didn't flinch. He sighed. "We can resupply the water and refresh our horses. We should do a few more miles—"

"Heero Yuy, we need to bathe. I swear, I will not march one mile farther than that river today. You can leave me behind, but I am bathing and I am resting. Catherine, too."

Heero spit and ignored the smug look on the servant's face. "Bathe. But, we will do a few more miles before nightfall."

"I'll ride ahead and let the men know." Trowa spurred the animal and sped off.

"It should be nice to dissolve the mud stuck in my hair." The Queen spoke behind his ear.

Heero grunted. He had to admit, his own smell had become noticeable. A soldier would gut it out. But when they reached the river, he really couldn't prevent anyone from bathing. So, as a leader, it was better to be seen as authorizing it.

He pulled her hands into position around his waist. Her head nestled between his shoulder blades. The horse started to trot, jostling the riders. Her grip tightened and for a moment, he just wanted to feel: her arms around his chest; the swell of pride that came with imagining she wanted it.

Wanted him.

He spurred his horse and picked up speed. The faster they arrived at the river, the sooner he could put distance between them.  
  


* * *

A system of streams converged together into a large river just North and East of their location. The Knight observed the connection point - smaller branches trickling and integrating together just south of a pedestrian bridge made out of flat stones between the two banks. Several yards farther downstream, a large, jagged rock rose from the water.

The river frothed and splashed with the water from the converged streams. Just beyond the rock, the body of water diverged again, with a bend in an easterly direction. It widened into a small lake, with several pieces of stone jutting out of the water. A small, wooded area abutted the lake on the opposite bank.

As soon as they arrived, his men whooped and hollered and dove right in. Trowa and Rashid dismounted and crossed the river, disappearing into the woods. The women did whatever women did; he did not ask for details.

More shouts. Heero noted that several of his men had removed their tunics and tossed their clothes on the opposite bank. The water looked to be about chest deep, and with the weather the past few days, guaranteed to feel icy at best. He shook his head.

'At least they aren't deserting.'

He glanced around, noting the position of the thick, jagged rock, and the speed of the current. A soldier jumped into the river. He came up, gasping, and pawing at the water. The river forced him along at a rapid pace. He sputtered and clawed.

"Swim, ya bastard!" A loud voice shouted.

Another man went after him - catching, grabbing the dark-haired man by the arm just before he collided with the rock.

"I can only dog paddle."

Heero rolled his eyes and decided he was in no humor to be around anyone. He crossed to the other bank, and headed into the grove of trees. The pine smelled fresh and clean; it cleared his head.

He took a deep breath. Sun warmed his skin. The Knight found a small footpath leading to the lake. He glanced around. The soldiers were on the other side; the embankment formed a small cove dotted with rocks and a few trees growing at odd angles.

He shucked his tunic, boots and breeches and hopped into the chilled water. Icy needles sliced his flesh and let the chill into his bones. He shook the water from his hair and let the current move him into deeper waters. Beyond the shadows of the trees.

Sunlight hit the lake and burst into blasts of color. It brightened the world around him. The knight indulged in a rare moment of quiet. Reveled in the bliss of solitude. The warmth.

And breathed.  
  


* * *

Water splashed and clapped - causing him to turn. He had floated over to a small jut of rock and sand. He placed his feet on the lake bottom.

She _,_ the Lady Relena, waded out into the water. And he was treated to the sight of her, completely nude, for the second time of their short acquaintance. The lake rising to mid-calf, then thigh - licking and lapping at her skin.

She didn't crouch to hide herself. Instead, the Lady strode with proud shoulders into the water, as if daring it to cast its chill on her person. The lake slid up to meet the prickled flesh of her body.

Heero felt his sex rise and take notice of her fair form. The muscle flexed in her calf and thigh as she moved; the gracious curve of her hip and perfectly round shape of her ass. Her bare back sculpted from puckered, tawny skin. The Lady's form appeared all one shade - indicating she had been nude in the sunlight on more than one occasion. The chill of the water didn't alleviate the tight feeling in his groin.

He watched as she bathed; her hands cupping, rubbing, kneading…. His fingers itched and ached to touch. Heero dunked himself under the water, to wash his hair, clear his head - dampen the fire in his veins. He came up for air, and found himself only a few yards away. His position obvious to the young Queen.

She gasped and crossed her arms against her chest. "Oh!" The Lady met his gaze; eyes wide. Long lashes kissed the skin of her cheeks. She tilted her head; her gaze dipped and he swore he could feel it rove the front of his neck and sweep the line of his shoulders and chest. He pressed closer; she took a step back. Her body trapped between a rock rising out of the river, and him.

Her eyes lifted; her cheeks flushed a lively pink. Heero met her gaze at the same time his hand touched her chin. He ran his thumb along the line of her jaw. Her lips parted. Her breathing changed; she took sharp, shallow breaths. The Lady's chest rising and dipping below the surface of the water. Mesmerized, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers.

She tasted of apples. He caught her bottom lip, applying light pressure. Heero nipped at her mouth with his teeth. He pulled away.

Her lips moved against his - featherlight. Hesitant. He paused, listening to their breaths mingle; staring at her trembling, pink lips. Her supple, heaving breasts. He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, and found himself being pulled back into the water, into her body. He pressed her back against the rock as he settled his mouth over hers, again.

He traced his tongue against her lip. Her eyelids slipped closed, and she opened to him. Heero deepened their kiss.

The water shushed quietly around them; her hands flat against his chest. The river slurped the shore and tinkled where it broke against their bodies. The skin of his palm prickled as he ran the tips of his fingers up the back of her neck to tangle in her hair. His arm wound around her waist, clutching her hip, pressing the soft mounds of her chest against him. Her tongue met his; tangling, moving. Inciting.

Her thigh brushed against his erection, and it stole the air from his lungs. Burning, he pressed his mouth, his chest, his need against her softer form. Desire saturated his skin, his muscle, his bone. The force demanding his body take action to satiate it. Heero pulled away.

"You…" she whispered. The Queen's hands dripped down the sides of his face to cover her chest.

His nose brushing hers, they stayed for a moment. A physical hunger urged him forward, but he held fast to the reins.

The Lady's breath hitched; her lips parted and her head tilted back. He stopped a half heartbeat away.

His body, he was sure, at that moment, was hers to command. The slightest touch, the barest of encouragement, and he would have taken her, there, in the river - where anyone who happened upon them could see.

An ache filled his abdomen. It sharpened as it pulsed through his body. He wanted: to bury his cock and his seed deep inside her body; to touch every inch of her marvelous skin. To make her scream his name in pleasure and her submission….

He wanted to declare she was his. To protect her with everything he had. And everything he would ever be.

They remained there, silent, despite his body's wanton cries. The way it craved her touch; how she pulled him towards her without even a look or a sound - like an invisible cord sewed them together.

The harsh grip he held over himself to prevent losing control.

'She can never be yours.'

The way that thought panged through every thread of him.

Heero turned and started towards the river's edge. "We still have a good distance to cover before we lose daylight."

"I understand."

"Is there," he took a tremulous breath, "anything you need?"

A moment's hesitation. "My hair."

He turned to face her; only her head bobbed above the water, now.

"It's. It is difficult to wash. On my own. If you would help me, it would not take as long."

He didn't dare say a word. Just nodded. He moved to her side; he placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her away from him. She leaned her head back, her chest breaking the plane of the water as she did so. He rubbed the bar of lye soap against the strands of her hair, combing his fingers through its lengths as it floated on top of the water.

The experience did nothing to alleviate the ache.

At the bank of the river, he handed her a towel to dry herself; he brushed the fabric over his skin, slung it around his waist and moved away from her as fast as he could manage.

Two more days and she would be out of his life. He would have enough money - and a title - to retire, comfortably. Pay his army. And accommodate his small band of loyal followers.

Two days.

Heero wasn't sure the sense of dread that filled his stomach was for the two days ahead - or the lifetime once those two days were over.

…...

_"I am entrusting this most important mission to you, Red Knight. Your reputation as a hardened warrior leads me to believe you are capable of carrying out my orders."_

_"I don't take orders."_

_"Forgive me. Carrying out my transaction. I shall pay you handsomely, of course. Capture the Queen of Sanq. Bring her here. I believe her presence will help me accomplish. Justice. For a past wrong."_

_Heero glared at the smooth aristocrat._

_"The purse is a downpayment." He gestured at a pouch on his large, wooden desk. "Take it. I'll double the amount when you bring her to me. Perhaps you would care for a title as well?"_

_The Knight snagged the small bag, turned and started towards the door._

_"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a chuckle. "Oh, Red Knight. Do take care. I hear she is a dangerous enemy."_

_Heero cast his eyes above his head and slammed the door behind him._

_"Yes. A very dangerous enemy." Lord Khrushrenada's voice filtered into the hall._

_The purse weighed heavy in his grip. Heero shoved it at his dragoon captain. "Count it."_

_The Knight continued his swift exit. His boots thudding against the polished wooden floors. He caught sight of a servant nosing out into the hallway; the feeble man retreated._

_"Holy mother of_ — _Heero!" Duo practically shouted as he ran. His long braid trailed behind him. "We could buy our own kingdom with this!"_

_A burning, sucking sensation attached itself to his chest. He stopped when they arrived at their horses. "How much?"_

_"It's gold. What'd you do? Sell your soul or something?"_

…...

Heero finished pulling on his damp tunic, and washed breeches. The fresh scent of florals and wood hung in the air. 'She was not a dangerous enemy.'

_The Queen's attendant turned and bowed; he took the lady's hand and pulled her forward until she was beside him. He tucked her hand into his arm - something a gentleman would do._

_She came into his view._

_Dark gold hair knotted into braids and arranged into a pile of cords atop her head. Blue-green eyes set above fine cheekbones and a slim nose. Her lips appeared a bit large for her face - thick and pink and pursed into a polite smile. Her long, elegant neck ended where it joined proud shoulders. Her bosom highlighted by the cut of the dress._

_He could travel a thousand kingdoms and never see another woman her equal._

'But, she is a dangerous woman.'

He closed his eyes and the memory of her pressed against him - taunted his mind.

'A most dangerous woman.'

* * *


End file.
